Cutting to Life: an NPC LitRPG (Battle Royale)

"We found her in the middle of town square, close to the palace. We apprehended her, but she struck two of us in the process. As such, she is being charged with Trespassing and two counts of Assaulting an Officer."

"Your Majesty," Nikola attempted to interject, but she was promptly cut off as the woman simply continued on as if she wasn't there.

"Very well," she purred. "Take her to the dungeon, and put her with the other humans."

"Your Majesty!" She repeated, this time louder and with a hint of desperation she couldn't hold in. "Please just let me leave, if it's such a problem that I am here. Truly, I do not even know how I got here."

Her words did little to move them, and the Queen looked on with the same glassy, focused expression she'd had since she had been dragged in, completely unfazed by her outburst. Her men simply improved the strength of their grip on her and started towards one of the many palace hallways.

The dungeon was down one level from the throne room, seated directly below it like some kind of cruel joke. Her Majesty sat on her imprisoned humans all day in a gilded throne, and Nikola was about to join them beneath her. As she entered, she noted how far apart the bars of the cages sat and also how many defeated-looking, emaciated humans sat in them. The walls were lined with cells, with six in the middle as well, sitting in a rectangle in the center like an island in a kitchen.

The guards opened one of the cells up, the door sliding open smoothly without even a metallic creak. When the door was ajar, they tossed her in haphazardly, and she landed on the porous stone with her hands first, and then her manacles, which were weighty and pulled her down hard. The gravity nearly made her face scrape against the floor, and she fought back a gasp.

"You've arrested me for defending myself and now you're treating me like a lesser being, and I'll remember this," she growled. One of the men followed her in to release her from her bonds and she sat there, perplexed, as they failed to respond to her and simply closed the door behind themselves, taking the manacles with them.

Nikola listened to the methodical beat of their footsteps as they walked away, seemingly unbothered by her threat.

She only realized how much her hands were quivering when she looked down and saw them moving. Right in front of her eyes, they moved so much they were almost blurring at the edges. She had always assumed that, if she was ever locked away, it would be for being caught mid-kill. This felt like an improper end to her story, like justice hadn't properly been served. If she was going to be stopped, she had hoped it would be by someone related to one of the people she killed, incensed and seeking revenge - this random snuffing could not be allowed.

She stood up slowly, her muscles and bones protesting as she did. They had been tense for too long, and knocked around during the chase; bruises had formed on her elbows, knees, wrists, shins. She longed for clothes that would cover her legs and arms so her weakness wasn't so plain to see.

Once she was vertical, she surveyed her surroundings more thoroughly.
There was no bed in her cell, only a blanket sprawled across the concrete.

Not even a single merciful pillow lay beneath it. The other cells were similarly bare, except for the humans within them, of which she counted 9.

There was one square-shaped hallway through all of the cells, and then a doorway that presumably led to the exit; so temptingly close, but on the other side of the bars.

The other prisoners were laying around in their cells. Only one of them was seated and observing her, and they were the one in the cell next to her. They were an emaciated-looking girl with dark bags under her eyes and shockingly bright red hair for somebody whose eyes looked so lifeless. Rags clung to her body, showing the ribs that hid beneath her flesh.

Nikola wondered how long she had been here, and also why everyone was asleep in their sorry excuses for beds, laying about like they weren't in jail. Why weren't they fighting for their lives, trying to free themselves from their predicaments?

Perhaps they were trying to genuinely repent for their crimes by serving our their sentence, or perhaps they were just resigned to their fates. She wondered how many of them had actually committed any kind of actual crime besides 'trespassing'.

"Hello," Nikola whispered through the bars, leaning down to get closer to the red-haired girl's level. While she wasn't laying down or asleep, she was still in 'bed', her lower half obscured by a thin blanket.

Her neighbour's head turned slowly, like a hinge that hadn't been oiled properly. "... hello..." She sounded parched as she breathed out the words, the sound of each letter catching in her throat as it passed.

"Do you know how to get out of here? Have you witnessed the guards fumbling with any keys, perhaps?" She figured she might as well get right to the point. Why bother making small talk in a place like this?

"... even if I did, I would not be able to leave..."

"And why is that?"

"... do you not know... what happens to humans in this city?"

Humans. Again, her humanness was being focused upon. "I do not. What happens to us?"

The prisoner readjusted herself under the fabric, and moved her hair from her face so they could make eye contact. Her eyes were a greyish brown, drained of their colour. "... we are drained. Our life force is used... to fuel the Violet Butterfly, the Goddess of this land..." She slumped closer to the floor then, catching herself with an elbow, as if even conversing was laborious for her. Her neck jellied for but a moment, her head sagging towards her shoulder.

"Drained." Nikola cupped her chin in her fingers, her dark brows knitting together. "Why would they use humans for such a thing?"

"Why not," she groaned, "when the other option would be... using her own people...?"

"So this Violet Butterfly needs energy? Why?"

"I... do not know... or perhaps I do... but I'm so tired I can't find the answer in my brain... I'm sorry, I know you are probably... scared..." Her eyes glazed over then, and she flopped to the ground with a gentle thud.

"I am not scared," Nikola growled, but she realized then that the girl had started snoring and her words fell on deaf ears.

She sighed at the fact that her one conversational partner was now unconscious - with a quick skim, she realized that all of the rest of them were also sprawled out on the floor, placid and unmoving. Were they all truly having their energy drained by the butterfly she had seen overseeing the city? Simply because of their humanness?

Her fingers fondled the curve of the shell of her ears, damning them for their shape or lack thereof.

She checked in with herself then, asking her arms and legs how they felt, bringing her racing thoughts to a standstill to gauge her status.
Her muscles were tense. Her legs were taut, a guitar string about to snap, and her knees were still throbbing from the various chases she had been in. She was also... heavy. Now that she was taking the time to notice it, she was indeed feeling leaden and worn. Her body was unhappy with any sort of movement, quick motions especially.